


The Key to Heaven and Hell

by rosepetalrevolution



Series: Utena Between-the-Lines Fic [1]
Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: Alcohol, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Domestic Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multi, Spoilers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 05:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3434912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosepetalrevolution/pseuds/rosepetalrevolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you know? Do you know? Do you know how the dueling game came to be, before our brave heroine joined the fight to defend her dear friend’s honor?<br/>(This was also my first ever fic, so it's a little rough. Maybe someday I'll go back and do a revision of it, but for now it stands as a relic of my beginnings as a writer.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Key to Heaven and Hell

“There’s no such thing as something eternal…”

At the sound of the young girl’s voice, Kiryuu Touga’s eyes flew open. His pulse raced and beads of sweat had formed at his temples, but his waking anxiety left him frozen on his back. Frantically, he struggled to remember the dream that had upset him so much, but was left with nothing more than the ominous declaration and the distressing feeling of familiarity, more frightening than déjà vu, that always follows a dream revealing repressed memories. Breathing deeply, Touga finally broke his paralysis and rolled over, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. It was only four in the morning, but he knew that sleep would not come again before the sun rose.

Touga left his bed, taking care to not wake the sleeping girl who remained tangled in the sheets. She would awaken later and wonder where he had gone, at which point it was likely that Nanami would show her the door; Touga counted on this sort of routine, which he would never observe or acknowledge outwardly, to maintain both his reputation and his freedom. He dressed quickly, but savored the feeling of fastening each button on his new uniform, taking pride in the knowledge of what the garment symbolized. The man in the mirror was impressive, a far cry from the boy Touga had thought himself to be only weeks before. A sense of power surged through him, now familiar despite the sudden changes that would shape his final year at Ohtori. For the first time, Touga felt confident that he had a real purpose, that his potential would finally be put to its most-fitting use.

From the shadows of the hallway, his sister watched him intently, her brow furrowed and her eyes flashing with skepticism. Nanami had been so proud upon learning of his appointment to the Student Council, but something about seeing her dearest older brother dressed in this new uniform frightened her. While she had every intention of utilizing her new social connections to her advantage, Nanami could no longer deny that something about Touga’s sudden rise to power at Ohtori made her uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the faceless girls who told her cryptic stories while she dreamt, or maybe it was the uncanny resemblance their new home bore to the estate where they had grown up. As she pondered her vague sense of coming danger, Touga turned suddenly, and their eyes met. In silence, he nodded, and then strode briskly past her and out the front door.

“You must hate me for what I’ve done.”

Arisugawa Juri folded the letter, written in a script that betrayed the author’s shaky hands, and placed it in the bottom drawer of her desk with no intention of ever reading it again. As she stood, her eyes were drawn to the mirror in front of her, not by the familiarity of her own face, but by the presence of a stranger. Her eyes had turned colder, a paler shade of green than they had once been, though few may have ever noticed. She had chosen to style her hair differently weeks ago, but the tightness of her new curls was still jarring. No longer would she smile widely, and her mouth seemed more appropriate for a young woman of such nobility than it ever had before. Now, with her seifuku exchanged for a crisp military suit, she felt her transformation was finally complete. This is who she was now, an imposing figure with no need for feelings and no patience for weakness; she had purged herself of these superfluous limitations, and found a lonely sort of comfort in her new, hard exterior. Her hand brushed over a locket that lay on her desk, and Juri paused. Biting her lip and closing her eyes, she violently swept it off the surface and sent the golden chain and pendant flying across the room. Such a sentimental piece of jewelry would not fit her new look.

Locking the door to her new apartment behind her, Juri began her walk to the edge of the forest. Had she been a feeble woman, she may have feared the rumored dangers Ohtori students had been shielded from all of these years, as the forest was surrounded by a high fence that was never seen unlocked. The sun had only just begun to rise, but the sky was ablaze with shades of red and orange. Slowly, more and more of the ocean’s calm surface appeared to turn from water to blood as Juri made her way along its shore. No cars were yet on the road, but up ahead she could see two tall figures approaching the barrier that kept student from venturing into the forest. “Trust no one,” she reminded herself quietly, then lengthened her stride.

“Miki and I are nothing alike.”

He hadn’t seen his sister for three days. He wished that he could go back, that he could decide against opening her bedroom door, that he hadn’t felt the need to call her to dinner. If he could just redo that afternoon, he would not have to see what she had become. He would not have to hear her renounce the bond they had shared since a time before their birth. She would not have run off to some unknown, undoubtedly sinister, location. Kozue had become so unfamiliar to him lately, and it pained him to even look at the girl who had once been his mirror image. But reflections are always presented in reverse, and Kaoru Miki had now come to see that his twin was more his opposite than he had thought.

He was the first to reach the forest’s gate, but a pang of anxiety flashed through him. His right hand gripped tighter around the stopwatch in his pocket, and Miki reminded himself that he had read the instructions twelve times over before leaving the house: “Meet at the gate to the forbidden forest at six in the morning. Tell no one where you are going. Student council business is strictly confidential.” Examining the massive iron fence, Miki felt less fear than wonder. He had never heard of students being allowed into the forest; in fact, he could scarcely remember its presence on Ohtori’s campus during his first years at the prestigious academy. With a puzzled look on his face, the prodigy dismissed such a thought immediately. He simply needed to be more aware of his surroundings.

From behind, Miki could hear the footsteps of two men, but resisted turning to greet them. He knew to be wary of the new President and Vice President, whose reputations preceded them. Saying nothing, the two council leaders reached the gate and stood to Miki’s left. On his right, a striking young woman had appeared. All four stared at gate in silence as a cold wind came in from the east. Before anyone could remark upon the tangible sense of dread that seemed to swirl around the foursome, the large gate swung open, and a pathway into the forest was revealed. In the moments that followed, everything was still.

“A mirage… a trick of the light…”

Kyouichi Saionji was the first to speak. “This can’t be real,” he whispered, speaking more to himself than his new companions as they made sense of what they found inside the gated forest. At the end of the sloping path that had now been opened, between two pools of glittering water that lay in a deep valley, appeared a massive stone edifice. A giant phoenix guarded the path forward, regal in its posture but rendered frightening by its unyielding medium; below the striking work was a stone doorway, large and seemingly immoveable. Saionji could not believe that what now loomed tall over the slowly-advancing students actually existed, at least not in the usual sense of the word. The sunlight that danced amongst the foliage and across the water disappeared in the shadow of the monolithic structure, intensifying the unnatural quiet of the garden.

As the group reached the stone doorway, Saionji saw Touga reach into his pocket, extracting a silver ring identical to the one he himself had received with his invitation to join the student council. Torn between respect for his oldest friend’s authority as the president of the council and a slowly burning desire to step out of his shadow, Saionji had accepted the role of vice president. Also the captain of the kendo team and rather popular with the young ladies of Ohtori, he had finally thought that he was coming into his own. But the sight of Touga approaching the towering door fueled his disdain for the red-haired man, and Saionji vowed that he would utilize his position in the council to finally surpass the one who had always held him back.

Brushing past the youngest council member, who was carefully studying the structure, Touga stopped at the handle of the door. Turning the silver ring over in his hand, he called over his shoulder to address the others behind him. “We all received and read the letters that summoned us here today and know how crucial it is that we follow their instructions. As president of this student council, I call our first meeting to session. From this moment forward, we must wear the rings that mark us as dedicated members who have been called upon to serve Ohtori Academy.” Touga slipped the ring that he had waited anxiously to wear onto his fourth finger; behind him, the others did the same. Then, as his first act of official leadership, Touga reached out to grasp the handle in front of him, just as the mysterious letter had instructed.

Miki’s eyes grew wide as a torrent of water began to flow down either side of the gigantic doorway, crashing into the pools on either side of the path where he stood. In his periphery, he could see Saionji reacting with a similar level of shock, while Touga watched calmly as the marble wings of the bird swept upward. A series of gates slid out of the way from various directions, and finally the shifting of the statue created a new image overhead. The archway now supported a stone rose, with jagged edges jutting outward from the center, curling around each other to form a flower both beautiful and dangerous. A staircase began beyond the arch, leading upward into the thick mist of the deepest part of the forest. While the president and vice president had begun their ascent, Miki considered turning back; a gentle hand on his shoulder, however, came as a surprising source of encouragement. He had never had any reason to suspect that the captain of the fencing team had noticed him in practice, yet now her eyes met his with a look of encouragement that differed so greatly from her normal demeanor. With Juri by his side, Miki crossed the threshold and began to climb upward.

The stairs seemed endless, but Juri was thankful for the time to consider what she had seen thus far. Sure enough, that which the letter had promised was all present – the other members of the council, the massive and shape-shifting statues, and now the stairway to the heavens. The new ring on her hand felt cold and foreign, and she was already fighting the urge to remove it and throw it deep into the trees below. She was not scared, nor was she curious or invigorated in the face of the uncertainty that lay ahead. While she could sense these feelings from the men and the boy that she accompanied, Juri could not help but remain skeptical of the whole situation. When she read the mysterious letter announcing her selection as a council member for the first time, it struck her as odd that no further instructions were given beyond climbing the stairs to the location for their first meeting. But weeks had passed, and Juri had thought little about what this day might hold in store. She had no time for the flourishes and pomp of the council’s rituals, and intended to perform her new duties swiftly and without any fuss. After what may have been hours – she could not be sure, but considered asking Miki if he had timed their ascent with his stopwatch – the newly-formed council passed through a final gate onto a sprawling platform, suspended high above the forest through which they had entered. The sky above them was clear and bright, as the sun had risen higher during their trek through the mysterious gates and gardens.

While Juri, Miki, and Touga looked out at the sprawling landscape visible from such a high point, Saionji’s eyes were pulled back to the platform that extended in front of them by an approaching figure. Appearing to glide rather than walk over the stone surface, a girl slowly drew closer to the awestruck council members, a small bouquet of brightly colored roses in her arms and a distant, defeated look in her eyes. Saionji stepped forward with one foot, but some invisible force compelled him to stay where he was. The beautiful girl finally reached the four students, all of whom had now noticed her approaching. Smooth, dark skin and perfectly coiffed violet hair were adorned with a red gown and a golden tiara. The girl stopped in front of the vice president, who had been left breathless by her appearance, and slowly met his gaze. In a voice both soft and unfeeling, the young woman addressed the quartet: “Welcome, members of the Ohtori Academy Student Council. You have all been chosen and summoned here today for a very important purpose: to pursue the power to bring revolution to the world. I am Himemiya Anthy, the Rose Bride. Please, let me explain everything to you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Knowing everything of the world, you chose this path.”

It always began this way, no matter what changes Akio made to the plan, no matter how things eventually turned out. Anthy lay sprawled on the chaise in the chairman’s lounge, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe amidst the pain of the swords that pierced her. Her brother never failed to remind her that her choice had caused all of this, that she had willingly accepted the new terms of their existence at one point in time. How many years ago had that been? She could no longer remember anything beyond the blur of faces and the cries of ‘Witch!’ that preceded blinding, excruciating pain. For all Anthy knew, she had been the one that died that day. The pain she felt daily now, that which she had endured for perhaps eternity, was never quite the same, and so she could not be sure she even remembered what it felt like to be stabbed by those particular swords and knives, the pitchforks and spears that had been brought to the small cabin where Dios breathed his last. Now, Anthy truly believed her brother when he proclaimed her responsible for everything that had happened to them. If only she had actually known the world then as she did now.

Buttoning his shirt and fixing his tie, Akio gazed down at his sister with sadness in his eyes. He wrapped one arm around her waist and, cradling her head with his other hand, lifted her from the sofa. After helping her dress, he disappeared in search of a washcloth for her forehead, as her fever raged on. Anthy knew there was little that could be done until the pain had passed, so she stared straight ahead, half-heartedly rehearsing the lines that her brother had written specifically for this new incarnation of the dueling game. They had tried to reach the revolution this way before, but still no sword strong enough to break the seal on the Rose Gate had emerged. Akio remained confident that something would be different this time, but Anthy had long abandoned the hope she once held for her brother to succeed. Maybe this was because she did not think it possible; more likely, it was because she knew, even though she would never admit it, that he would not save her even after regaining his princely power. When he returned with the cool cloth, she closed her eyes and braced herself for the performance that would begin anew in the dueling arena that day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As expected, Juri was the first to protest. “I had been led to believe the student council of this academy was tasked with ensuring the protection, freedom, and growth of the students. Why is it, then, that I should participate in this dueling game? I have much more important duties to attend to, and no use for such a prize.” Miki made a small nodding gesture, but his eyes revealed that he was fighting the temptation to agree to the terms of the duels. The council president remained silent and stone-faced, observing the behavior of his new colleagues rather than reacting to the fantastical proposition that the four of them would engage in a series of sword fights to take possession of Anthy herself. Before Anthy could respond to the woman whose saffron hair sparkled in the unfiltered sunlight, the wild-eyed vice president stepped forward. As Anthy had anticipated, he was very clearly eager to join in the dueling game, despite knowing nothing of its purpose or organizer.

“Unlike my fellow council members, I am honored to have been chosen by End of the World to pursue such a noble goal and beautiful prize.” Saionji’s eagerness was clear, but so was his lack of experience with taking charge in such a way. He silently praised himself for beating Touga to it, for demonstrating his value to the council, for capturing the attention of the young lady who still stood in front of him. “I accept the role of duelist, and will defeat those who would prevent me from bringing revolution to the world.” As Touga stepped toward him, Saionji turned to meet his eyes. “Yes, even you, old friend.”

Touga had anticipated such a response from Saionji, who was always playing at something out of his league. But perhaps his friend’s misguided enthusiasm would come back to benefit the new president, so Touga remained quiet as he took in what he could about the unfolding situation. Miss Arisugawa was hiding something, not only from others, but most importantly, herself. The Kaoru boy had an innocence that would be easy to take advantage of, especially given what Nanami had told him about his relationship with his twin sister. And Saionji… well, Touga knew what drove Saionji. He had always known it. Himemiya Anthy appeared to him as nothing but a shell, a representation of a girl that lacked any will or desires that he could use to his advantage, so he paid little attention to her. A month prior, Touga would not have understood such pragmatic thinking, but he took silent pride in his developing plot. Only a fool like Saionji would reveal the cards he held this early in the game.

As instructed, Anthy seized the opportunity that Saionji had created through his arrogance and ambition. “Your bravery and spirit will be rewarded, Master Saionji.” The flattery left a bitter taste in Anthy’s mouth, but she had long ago learned that a measured pace and even tone allowed her to speak even the worst of lies convincingly. If she could still experience the emotion, she would have feared this man. Akio had been clear that his instability and wild ways were crucial to the new plan, but Anthy knew to expect the worst from her time with Saionji. Perhaps if her brother ever disclosed more of his plans than what she needed to know immediately, Anthy would be able to see the value in her impending engagement to such a violent man. But it was not her place to question Akio’s means. Rising onto her tiptoes, Anthy secured a green rose boutonnière to Saionji’s white jacket. “This is a mark of a duelist,” she explained, “You will wear a rose each time you enter this arena.” Turning from the man, who towered over her imposingly, the Rose Bride addressed his doubtful companions: “As for the rest of you, perhaps there is more that can be done to convince you of the value in these duels…”

Turning gracefully, the young woman left the council members standing on the edge of the stone platform. When she reached the very center, marked by the pistil of a dark stone rose inlaid amongst the lighter grey marble of the main stage, a strong wind picked up and the light left the sky. Fear flashed in the eyes of Miki and Juri as the mysterious girl who had gathered them together began to emit a bright light from her chest. Touga gripped the rose that Anthy had handed him so tightly that he failed to notice the blood that its thorns drew from his palm. This morning had been strange enough already, but each of the four students was now faced with forces unlike anything they had ever seen. Himemiya Anthy called out to the sky above her: “Rose of the noble castle, power of Dios that sleeps within me. Heed your master and come forth.” In a flash of light, even the skeptical students were convinced that she was worth investigating further.

Without thought or emotion, Saionji had begun to walk slowly toward the girl in the center of the platform, who had at first appeared to be a princess but now displayed the magic of a powerful witch. He could scarcely give words to his desire for her, but knew that he was attracted to something much greater than her beauty and demure manner. As he approached, however, Anthy’s body went limp, her head thrown back in what could have been ecstasy or agony, and what appeared to be the golden hilt of a sword emerged from her sternum. Before she could fall to the ground, Saionji ran forward and caught her with one arm under her lower back. Slowly scanning his eyes from her face, which showed no feeling or life whatsoever, to the regally-adorned pommel and grip that she had somehow summoned from inside herself, the young man felt a rush of intoxicating power. It was his turn to be the prince, both by saving the damsel and wielding the noble sword. With a slow but strong movement, Saionji drew the sword from its living scabbard. How he knew the words that would complete the spell, he could never be sure. Nonetheless, he was certain of what he must do, and gave voice to his truest desire: “Grant me the power to revolutionize the world!”

As if the sword had been a key, the magic of the place high above the forest seemed to have only begun when Saionji removed its blade from the bride’s breast. As he held the weapon high above his head, lightning flashed around the suspended platform. Gradually, something materialized above the dueling arena and the sun reappeared in the sky to the east. As their eyes adjusted to the changing light, the students realized what now hung above them, as though resting on the surface of an invisible, upside-down heaven: a castle, complete with spires and gates and brightly lit windows that left the council members breathless. Unable to tear their eyes away, the four students listened as Anthy explained: “Inside the castle lies a magical light, the power that will grant you whatever wish you hold deepest in your heart. It is that which is eternal, that which shines, the power of miracles. It is the power to bring the world revolution.”

Miki could not be sure, but he thought he had seen his sister appear in one of the windows of the castle. Except… that could not have been Kozue, dressed in a beautiful princess dress that matched the Rose Bride’s, smiling down sweetly upon her brother. He felt a deep yearning for his sister’s presence, the feeling of her sitting next to him on the piano bench, and the harmonies they made together before she had become wild and tainted. If there was a way to make her a princess, his princess, once again, Miki would fight any challenger to obtain that power. After what seemed like hours, Miki was able to break whatever spell the castle held over him, and approached Anthy in the center of the platform. Silently, she fastened a blue rose to the breast of his uniform jacket. At her touch, Miki’s breath caught in his chest, and he knew that he wanted the bride, with her sweet, quiet way and her power to set things right again.

Juri had been mesmerized by the castle’s appearance, puzzling over the physics of such a structure for too long before dismissing it as an elaborate projection. She had learned long ago that miracles such as this did not exist, despite the poetry that Miss Himemiya might have recited for them. But when her gaze shifted to the young woman standing at the center of the dueling stage, Juri’s heart stopped. The dark skinned bride had been replaced by one of far lighter coloring, with pale, impenetrable violet eyes. Though her mouth never moved, Juri heard the familiar voice all around her: “Believe in miracles, and they will know your feelings.” The councilwoman closed her eyes, refusing to be taken in by such an illusion, but opened them to find she had made her way to the center of the platform. Himemiya Anthy stood before her, an orange rose in her outstretched hand and a knowing look in her eyes. As Miki watched on, Juri accepted the mark of the duelists, and fastened her rose to her uniform jacket.

Only Touga had seen the crack that appeared in Miss Arisugawa’s armor, and he took note of her first sign of weakness. The castle had impressed him simply by appearing, but the student council president needed little convincing to join the dueling game. Of course, his letter had differed slightly from those the others received, and he had known to expect the task the council would be asked to take up long before the sun rose that morning. End of the World had appointed him as a special liaison from the council to the master of the dueling game, promising great rewards for the successful facilitation of each round. Touga did not need to meet this mysterious figure to know that he wanted what End of the World could offer, wanted to know the power of orchestrating the movements of others. Thinking of his father, Touga bitterly reminded himself that adulthood was an arena of power, one in which he must be both strong and cunning to bend others to his will. With unparalleled confidence, the president strode toward the Rose Bride and allowed her to adorn his jacket with the red rose she had given him upon his arrival, now dripping from the thorns with his own blood.

Immediately after the appearance of the castle, Saionji had fallen to his knees. From the center of the platform, surrounded by the great stone rose, the glistening castle was an overwhelming sight. Never before had Saionji felt so empowered, so sure of his own destiny than when he had drawn the sword from Anthy, and now he could see the path that had been laid for him. “I must reach the castle, and bring my princess with me!” he thought, when a flash of crimson caught his eye. Touga’s long, red hair billowed in the wind as Anthy pinned the rose to his chest, but Saionji was not about to let his friend steal his glory once again.

Saionji lunged at Anthy, grasping her wrist and tearing her away from the other man. The girl fell to the ground, and when Juri started forward to help her, Saionji raised the sword to the taller woman’s throat. “I have unleashed the power of this blade, and the Rose Bride now belongs to me,” Saionji snarled, “Those who would have her and the power of revolution must first defeat me in a duel! End of the World has been clear about the rules of this game!” Juri took three cautious steps back as Miki and Touga looked on, displeased with the aggressive attitude Saionji displayed so suddenly. “My old friend,” Touga said warily as he watched Saionji pull Anthy to her feet, “if this prize is so valuable to you, then you would be well suited to take good care of it.” Turning to Anthy, he asked, “Are you hurt?”

“No, I am not hurt,” Anthy said quietly, with her eyes focused on the ground. “But Master Saionji is correct. As the first to enter the dueling game and draw the Sword of Dios, he is now engaged to me. I belong to him, and will do as he says.” Miki noticed that bruises were already becoming visible on her wrist, and suddenly Anthy looked so much smaller and more fragile than he had originally thought her to be. With each of the roses distributed, Anthy addressed the group one last time: “Any duelist may challenge the Engaged for a chance to win me and pursue the power of the revolution. A duel is won when the rose is cut from the chest of one contender. All duelists must have a sword. For now, these are your instructions; more letters will come from End of the World as the game progresses. I bid you all good day.”

Having had enough of this drama for one day, Juri turned on her heel and strode back toward the staircase. Miki followed eagerly, but Anthy saw him glance back at her over his shoulder twice before reaching the gate of the arena. Hearing the younger boy’s footsteps behind her, the regal councilwoman slowed her pace, and the two departed from the arena together. Touga strolled away slowly, clearly waiting for Saionji to leave with him, but the green-haired man stayed back with his bride. Anthy braced herself for whatever request her new fiancée would have for her, expecting the worst already. Rather, Saionji pulled her close and whispered, “My beloved bride, I will bring you an exchange diary through which we might share our love for each other. You are mine now, and I will love you so long as you are true and loyal to me alone.” He held the small woman tightly, with a grip strengthened not by love, but by a sense of power and possession; Anthy had known such a grip many times before, and sighed sadly as Saionji confirmed that her captivity would still not extend far beyond the gates of her rose garden.

The two men began their descent down the towering stone staircase in silence. Up ahead, they could see the bright blues and oranges of their fellow councilmembers’ hair, but the distance between the two halves of the governing body was clearly one substantiated by more than physical space. “You displayed great ambition today, my friend,” Touga said, doing his best to sound humble and sincere. “Such an admirable display of power.” Saionji contemplated his friend’s words in silence for a few moments, but could only respond with contempt. “This is the new Kyouichi Saionji: captain of the kendo team, vice president of the student council, and current dueling champion. I shall not be defeated so easily. You had better get used to that notion, old friend.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs and parted ways. While Juri and Miki were long gone and Touga was undoubtedly returning to the president’s mansion, Saionji walked through Ohtori’s regal campus to the Kendo clubhouse. The sun had nearly set by the time he reached the small, simple building, but he wished to waste no time. He would need to continue to practice if he hoped to protect his new bride and make his way to the castle that now dominated his thoughts. When he finished changing into his practice robes, Saionji rifled through his locker, tossing aside a few love letters he had recently received from the silly young women of Ohtori’s middle school before finding a leather bound notebook. He had been saving its blank pages for a pure, devoted maiden. Grabbing a pen, he closed the locker door and headed out to the practice floor, intent upon using his exercise as a chance to gather his thoughts before writing his first love letter to Anthy. As he swung the wooden practice sword, however, only one word came to his mind: eternity. Only one face appeared to him: Touga’s. With a roar, Saionji threw his sword to the ground, breathing heavily. No longer would he stifle his passion, his power, or his rage. Eternity would be his, and not even Touga could stop him this time.

As Juri and Miki had walked through the stone garden that had earlier seemed to be the height of mystery to them both, the boy finally worked up the courage to speak to his companion. “Miss Arisugawa, I’m sure you had not ever noticed me before, but I am a member of the fencing team as well as a student council member. I look forward to spending more time with such a well-regarded lady as yourself.” Miki felt his cheeks get hot, and stared at the ground in embarrassment. Juri, however, was genuinely touched by the sentiment, as it was not one she heard frequently from other students. “Miki, the feeling is mutual. I did, in fact, recognize you from fencing practices, and have heard of your academic and musical talents. The honor of serving on the student council with such a talented young man is mine. Now, let’s get you home before nightfall.” The unlikely duo shared a smile, and walked on along the coast. The water that had seemed to burn that morning was now a dark blue, but whitecaps broke violently against the rocks as Juri and Miki approached the Kaoru residence. A silhouette appeared in a window, and Miki halted at the place where the path to his house began. Kozue returning home was something he should have been happy about, but an unfamiliar feeling of contempt for his twin had risen inside him over the course of the day.

“Is everything alright?” Juri asked, her steady, even voice laced with a nearly inaudible tone of concern. Miki thought back to the castle, to the sight of his sister as a princess imprisoned within one of its towers. He thought of Anthy Himemiya, and the polite, genteel manner that concealed the incredible power sleeping within her. Turning back to Juri, Miki shook his head and smiled slightly. “I just feel as though so much has changed today. I grew up in this house, but something about it seems a little unfamiliar now. Goodnight, Miss Juri.”

The boy’s words troubled her, but Juri could not understand why. As she walked along, she reassured herself that nothing much at all had changed, even though the others seemed to think it had. No, the dueling game was nothing but a formality, one of the rituals she despised so much that were required for participation in organizations like the student council. A lone bird sang as she completed the walk home, its music sad and lonely. Living alone, rather than with a roommate in the dormitories, would be a change Juri could never get used to, but she reveled in the opportunity to wrap herself in a luxurious dressing gown whenever she wanted. With a cup of tea in hand and a fire crackling under the mantle, she sat down in her favorite armchair and let her mind wander. What had appeared to her in the dueling arena today? Juri didn’t believe in magic, let alone in miracles, so how could Anthy Himemiya have created such an illusion? How could she have known just what to project in order to lower Juri’s defenses?

Memories flooded back to her, as if breaking a dam that Juri had erected in her heart and mind to keep them at bay. Life had been simpler, back then, she thought. No, maybe not simpler, but certainly happier. But a person can only live for so long with a secret like the one Juri had borne, so it was for the best that she had left behind the two she loved the most. As though she was hypnotized once again, like she seemed to have been in the arena, Juri walked slowly to the place where her locket had fallen after her fit of emotions that morning. She picked it up and, turning it over in her hands, contemplated its emptiness.

The frame holding an old class photo on her desk did not resist much when she snapped it with her hands; a small cut from its glass began to bleed from the finger that now carried the rose crest. She drew a pair of scissors from the drawer, and quietly took them to the photograph. Shreds scattered around her, many baring the unremarkable faces of her classmates from years prior. Holding up the small, oval-shaped piece that remained, Juri gazed at the face in the photo longingly. Tucked safely in Juri’s locket, the girl’s face would never be seen again on Ohtori’s campus. Juri watched the fire until it died, reassuring herself that the thing she wanted most, the thing that would likely destroy her, would never return, no matter what power the Rose Bride promised lay hidden in the castle. Some miracles are best left unperformed.

Touga, having arrived home to find that dinner was already waiting for him on the large banquet table, sat across from his younger sister as she chattered away about her plans for their upcoming dance party. Turning a piece of broccoli over with his fork, he lost himself in thought despite Nanami’s enthusiastic chirping and laughter. His sister and his best friend were really the only people he had left from the darker times of his childhood, and yet they had always failed to see his pain. The years of lonely and fearful existence, of pretending that his life was as picturesque as the Kiryuu’s always presented it to be, had prepared him well, though. Touga thought about Saionji’s weakness that day at the dueling arena, his misguided enthusiasm for a system that did not have his best interest in mind, that would never reward him in the way it promised. It was a curious reversal of the events of the day when they found the little girl hiding in the coffin, if that had been something that actually occurred. They had never discussed her after their only meeting, but Touga was certain that his dreams of her voice, burdened with a pain that other, happier children could never have understood, reflected a reality long since passed.

“And of course, we’ll be crowning a princess and a prince!” Nanami’s voice brought her brother back to reality. “Or a queen and a king. I can’t decide what the titles should be. Of course, you’ll be a judge, won’t you, big brother? It would be unfair to the other young men if you were to compete! They’d never stand a chance against you!” Touga chuckled softly and closed his eyes; Nanami’s adoration was without end, and despite his resentment for her never having known the horrors their father had inflicted upon him for all those years, he was glad to have her around. He smiled and assured her that he would perform whatever role she planned for him at her party. Abandoning his nearly-full plate, Touga strode over to where the petite girl sat. Bending to kiss her on the forehead, he said, “Promise me you’ll be a good girl, and refrain from any of your usual scheming. Such mischief isn’t attractive in a young lady.” As she blushed, Touga strolled off down the darkened hallway. He could hear the telephone ringing in his bedroom, and eagerly anticipated the conversation that awaited him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The student council had left the arena, and Anthy glanced upward to the castle suspended above her. During the moments it remained, she searched for some indication that it held something for her, just as the duelists had seen. Just as every other time she had gazed upon the massive hologram, a sort of mirror to the soul for a normal viewer, Anthy could see nothing. The scene around her dissolved, and Akio stepped out of the shadow of his magical machine. “Good girl, Anthy. They will make fine duelists,” he purred as he came up behind her, gripping her shoulder with his hand. Anthy turned, and with the faintest traces of sadness and resentment in her eyes, asked, “Who will be the victor this time, big brother?”

Akio shook his head and walked away to pour himself a glass of brandy. “Who do you think shows the necessary potential, Anthy?” Examining her hands, scarred by both blades and thorns, and the bruised wrist Saionji had injured, Anthy thought of each of the new duelists. “The boy seems easily distracted. He might have the skill in the arena, but lacks the strength of conviction that would be required to reach the final duel.” Akio had seated himself on the white sofa, and beckoned for her to join him. “Master Saionji’s recklessness will fail him, especially when up against the council president,” she continued, staring out the window at the rising moon. They were so high up, in this tower, that the sun’s setting and the beginning of the night looked so different from the rest of the world. The ice cubes in Akio’s glass clinked together as he drank deeply, eyes closed and hair flowing over his shoulders. “Miss Arisugawa will take further convincing, but it is clear she has both skill and virtue that could prove very useful, should she accept her role as a duelist. That leaves the president, surely a fine competitor…” Turning to look him in the eyes, Anthy wondered whether the man seated next to her was still her brother; he certainly was no longer Dios, who would never have knowingly orchestrated the downfall of such promising, if troubled, young people.

Akio gently removed his sister’s glasses, placing them on the coffee table next to their seats. “Keen observations, Anthy, but there may yet be more developments in the early rounds of our little game.” He draped an arm around the slight woman and leaned over her, his broad shoulders blocking out the light of the full moon that shone through the high windows. She could smell the booze on his breath – the now-empty glass on the table had clearly not been his first that evening – and turned her head away, bracing herself for his drunken aggression. Before she felt his touch, however, the doorbell rang, and Akio sat up. Anthy rose from the couch, taking her glasses from the table and straightening her school uniform as she walked away. “That must be Kanae for your date tonight. Have a nice time, big brother.” “Tell me, Anthy,” the man called after her, “Do you still see the Prince when you look upon the castle?” As the projector lit up the ceiling with images of constellations and planets, a bright light reflected off the round lenses of her glasses, and she stepped backward into the elevator. “Of course, big brother,” she called back in a cool, unwavering voice; once the sliding doors had closed in front of her, she smiled for the first time all day.

Chu-Chu lay sleeping on the bed in Anthy’s room, his tiny snores the only background noise for his mistress’s contemplation. As she gently combed her long, wavy hair, Anthy gazed upon the domain that she and Akio had built for themselves in hopes of finding one who could help them bring about the revolution. Students would be returning to campus in a few days’ time, and she would once again be confined primarily to her garden. So long as none of the new council members were particularly meddlesome, it could remain a place of peace and comfort for her, but Anthy was not optimistic about what the term and the new round of duels held in store. As the moonlight shimmered over the ocean, visible from the second highest floor of Ohtori’s grand tower, she lost herself in thoughts of the Prince, once the companion and protector for whom she had given everything. After what may have been but a few moments or possibly a few hours, Anthy was startled, wrenched back to reality from her waking dream, by the screeches and laughter of two girls sitting on the hillside. Upon further investigation, it was rather the loud squealing of one girl, tall and lanky with a brown ponytail, who clutched to the arm of her stunning, athletic companion. As the two gazed at the stars that actually existed in the clear night sky, Anthy wished she could feel jealousy; after all, they looked to be having a nice time. But she was left only with pity, as neither of the young women knew of the pains the real world inevitably held in store for them, for all girls. Sighing deeply, Anthy drew the curtains and climbed into bed, wishing only for a single night of restful, painless sleep. She knew that such a thing would never again come to her, but she still prayed to a god she had never believed in for nothing more than a few hours’ reprieve from her endless existence as the Rose Bride. But this was the life she had chosen, for those girls too ugly, too spiteful, too cold to be princesses had no choice but to take up the ways of a witch. As the voices of the girls outside grew fainter, Anthy drifted unwillingly into a lonely, dreamless sleep, just as she had every night for hundreds of years.


End file.
